


The Very Thought of You

by ardentaislinn



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Teacher!Killian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1345681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/pseuds/ardentaislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian Jones is a 6th grade teacher and possibly the most awkward guy on the planet. He has a crush on Emma Swan, the single mother of one of his students.</p><p>This was meant to just be a small Tumblr prompt, but it got a bit out of control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [This](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/41344) by cageddove. 



Killian Jones was lost in thought about the about all the marking he would have to do that night when he nearly collided with a familiar figure. It took his brain a minute to catch up to his eyes, and he could feel himself staring at the woman in front of him until he finally recognised her.

“Oh, Ms. Swan. I didn’t expect…didn’t see you there.” Killian felt himself get flustered and nearly dropped the pile of papers he was holding. He started straightening the papers in his hands to avoid looking at her, sure his face was bright red.

“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the corridor, anyway.” At the self-depreciation in her voice, Killian’s eyes flickered up to her face and then back down to his hands. She was giving him that familiar half-smile of hers, where just the corners tilted up. He smiled in response, though she probably couldn’t actually see it.

“Your hair is different. Better. Good.” Killian immediately winced at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. He felt his face flame higher and he looked intensely at the floor, willing his mouth to stop talking with every fibre of his being. What was it about this woman that caused his brain to short-circuit?

“Oh, thanks for noticing. I got it cut a few days ago.”

Killian nodded, still not really looking at her. He’d noticed exactly the day she’d got it cut, he just hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet.

“It looks nice,” he managed. He steeled himself and looked her in the eye so she could see the sincerity behind the compliment. He figured that would be polite. She blinked as if startled, and Killian realised he was probably looking at her quite intensely. He was never going to get this right.

“Um, thank you. Have you seen Henry around?” she asked a little awkwardly.

He took that as a hint to stop getting personal and sighed inwardly. He was worse at flirting than the 12-year-old’s he taught.

“They are a little late getting back from their P.E. trip. They should be back any minute,” he reassured her.

“Thanks,” she told him. He nodded once and went to move around him when she spoke again.

“Hey, I was wondering…” His heart skipped a beat as he looked up into her eyes. For once, there were no walls surrounding her emotions. She was looking at him nervously and, dare he think it, with hope.

She hesitated, and the suspense was agonising, but he knew he shouldn’t push.

Just as she opened her mouth to continue, there was a whistle blown outside the door, and the yellow school bus was pulling into the courtyard.

Emma gave him a regretful look, and then left to pick up her son.


	2. The Parent-Teacher Interview

Killian nervously shuffled papers on his desk as he waited for the parent-teacher interviews to begin. It had been 2 weeks since he’s last bumped into Emma Swan (literally), and he was torn been anxiety at the thought of seeing her again, and determination not to mess it up this time.

He’d exchanged his usual cardigans for a plain black blazer over a plain red t-shirt. His glasses, however, he kept. No use in Ms. Swan realising he’d put in extra effort for her. That would just be embarrassing for both of them. Probably. He honestly had no idea what she thought of him. Until that moment in the hall a few weeks ago, he would have said something close to pity, if she thought of him at all. But he was resolute in his mission to see if that softening in her eyes had been real, or if it was just a product of his extremely fertile imagination when it came to her.

He checked over the schedule one last time. She was the last parent he had to see. He didn’t know whether to be happy or disappointed about that. Probably happy, even though he was sure to be extremely distracted throughout the rest of the interviews.

The first of many parents arrived, and Killian forced himself to sit and focus to each of them and their concerns as he cycled through them.

By the time the last interview rolled around, he had almost entirely forgotten that she was next. So when he glanced up at the door to see Emma Swan in person, he inevitably made a complete idiot of himself by standing up too fast and knocking over his stack of notes.

He froze, and could feel the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“One moment,” he told her in a strangled voice, before disappearing under his desk to collect the papers. He used the time to take some deep breaths. Centre himself. Gain control. He was a grown man. He could do this.

He stood up again, and nearly started in shock. He hadn’t heard her move, but somehow she was standing right across the desk from him. Far too close for his piece of mind. She was wearing a red top that was a little lower cut than he had ever seen on her before which distracted him momentarily. He blinked, and forced himself back under control.

“Emma. Uh, Ms. Swan. Nice to see you again,” he told her as he gestured for her to take the chair opposite him. He only sat down once she seemed comfortable.

“Emma is fine, Mr. Jones.”

“Killian, please.” There, that was alright. Adult. Normal. He could do this.

Except then neither of them said anything for a few long moments, and Killian knew it was about to get awkward again. She was staring in his general vicinity with a fairly blank expression on her face. Killian wondered how he could have possibly bored her so much already.

“So, did you have any particular questions or concerns about Henry?”

Emma blinked, as if she had been lost in thought, and Killian could have sworn a faint blush tinged her cheeks. Killian glanced down at the spot she had been staring at and…had it been the v-neck of his t-shirt? If so, was that a good sign? It was certainly interesting. Maybe she just hated chest hair. Killian had a brief and rather hysterical moment of existential crisis as he wondered if he would wax it off for her before he wrenched his mind back to the woman in front of him.

Emma smiled tentatively at him. “Well, I think his grades are good, right? He seems to be getting along with his classmates. As long as that’s the case, I’m happy.”

Familiar territory. Killian felt himself relax slightly. “His grades are definitely good. English more so than maths. He’s got a terrific imagination, which sometimes means he finds it difficult to concentrate on the more mundane matters of this world.” Emma grinned at this description of her son, and Killian returned it, suddenly feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

“So, do I need to work with him more on his maths? Or do you think he’ll get there?”

“He’s definitely on the right track. It just takes him a little longer to get his head around some of the stuff. I’m sure you already help him a lot.”

Emma’s expression warmed, and Killian felt a flutter in his chest. OK, he was doing well. He just needed to hold it together.

“I do, but you always feel you should do more, you know?”

Killian nodded. “I definitely do. It’s like that as a teacher, too. I could spend all my spare time working with these kids and it would never feel like enough.”

“You’re a good teacher,” Emma told him. Killian felt himself blush again and looked down at his desk as he muttered a “thanks”. He couldn’t help feeling very flattered by her remark. He had the distinct impression that other than her son, she was a difficult woman to impress.

“He has friends, right?” Emma asked him suddenly. “He says he does, but never brings anyone over, or mentions any names. I just…I’ve been worried…,” she trailed off. Killian looked into her eyes and saw so much there: her worry for her son, her fear of being a bad parent, her hope that he can set her at ease. Killian had never seen Emma so open before, so vulnerable. His heart stuttered.

“There is a girl. Avery. He sits with her most of the time at lunch. From what I can tell, they make up stories together about princes and witches and curses,” Killian told her in his most reassuring tone.

Emma’s face lit up, and Killian caught his breath at her beauty.

“That sounds…kind of adorable.”

Killian chuckled lightly. “It is.”

“I’ll have to ask him about her.”

“Then he’ll know I’m a rat,” Killian told her in mock horror.

Emma giggled – giggled? – and her laugh was infectious. Killian didn’t want it to end but he knew soon enough –

“Well, if that’s everything…” Emma began. Killian’s heart sank. He couldn’t think of any other way to get her to stay without it becoming a bit creepy, so he stood and held out his hand.

“Thanks for coming in,” he told her.

Emma looked a little startled, but took his hand and shook it firmly.

“Thanks.”

She was halfway to the door, when Killian stopped her.

“Emma,” he said softly. Her feet froze on the floor, and then she turned back towards him very slowly. He looked into her face, really studied it, and was certain he saw some hope there. Only one way to find out, he supposed.

“Emma,” he began again. “I know it’s not…appropriate, right now. But, sometime, after Henry has…you know…do you think maybe you would like to…go somewhere? With me?” He managed to choke out. He nearly winced, thinking his delivery could have in no way been worse.

Emma was silent for a long time, and Killian was about ready to crawl back under his desk when she finally spoke.

“Like, a date?”

“Yeah.”

“After Henry goes into the next grade?”

“Yeah.”

“With you?”

“That was kinda the idea, yeah.”

“Oh.”

She didn’t say anything for the longest minute of Killian’s life, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and realised he would have to salvage what he could from this.

“Look, it was a silly idea. I mean, why would you want…? Yeah, OK. I’ll just, um…forget about it. Never happened. Just a –“

“Yes.”

“I…what?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Oh.” It was Killian’s turn to be speechless.

“Sorry, I just…It’s been a very long time since I’ve been on a date. I’m not very good at this whole…dating thing.”

Killian laughed humourlessly. “Believe me, neither am I.”

“Maybe that means it’ll actually work out,” she said, and Killian suspected she was only half joking.

The knot that had been forming in his stomach for a while now eased and disappeared. “Yeah, I think you might be right.”

She smiled at him, and Killian could see her shoulders relax.

“I’ll just get my notes and then I can walk you to your car,” he told her.

“Alright,” she told him, without a trace of her usual emotional walls.

Killian couldn’t believe his luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: I have no idea how the American school system works, so I basically used what I know from the Australian system and tried to keep it vague. That’s why I use ‘maths’ instead of ‘math’. Sorry if it is annoying, but write what you know, right?
> 
> This part of the story is dedicated to hooklesslyinlove, for their intense and extremely flattering reaction to part 1.


	3. The Phone Call

Killian stared at the phone as if it held the answer to all of the universe’s questions. Instead, it held Emma’s number, which was almost as good. Even better, Henry’s last day in his class had been yesterday, so he was free to call it without repercussions.

Instead, he was looking at the phone where it sat on the table and having an inner panic attack. He had no idea what was wrong with him. He hadn’t been this nervous around a woman since he hit his twenties. There was just something about Emma Swan that caused his brain to go into meltdown.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” He muttered to himself aloud. She’s already said yes to the date. Granted, it was weeks ago, and she was fully within her rights to change her mind. And crush all his hopes in the process, but that was beside the point.

He reached out slowly and picked up the phone. Stared at it some more. Put it down again.

“A beer. That might calm me,” he told to his phone. And then rolled his eyes at himself. If the very thought of calling Emma was sending him off the deep end enough to start talking to inanimate objects, it might not be a good sign.

Killian retrieved a beer from the fridge and sat back down. The phone was taking on mythic proportions in his head, as if it was the keeper of all his hopes and dreams. How ludicrous. And strangely accurate.

He finished his beer and reached for the phone again. This time he got as far as pulling up her number before chickening out again. Maybe another beer? He had a brief fantasy in which he called Emma, completely drunk out of his mind and sobbing, and decided that was a terrible idea.

“OK, just do it.”

He pressed the call button, and nearly hung up immediately. He forced himself to stay the course and clung tighter to the phone as the ringing echoed in his brain.

Eventually, someone answered, but it was not the voice he expected.

“Swan residence.”

“Hello, Henry. It’s Mr. Jones. Is your Mum there?”

“Yeah. Mum, it’s Mr. Jones.”

Killian heard her voice, but she didn’t come to the phone. Killian worried for a few moments before Henry turned his attention back to him.

“She’s here, but she has her hands up a chicken’s butt. Can she call you back?”

Killian tried not to laugh at the image Henry had unthinkingly presented him with. “Sure, Henry, that’s fine.”

“He said that’s fine,” Henry said, evidently to his mother again.

Killian could make out a few of the words she was saying, but couldn’t grasp the meaning. Henry was about to hang up when Killian thought of something else.

“Though, while you’re here, Henry, I can let you know that you did very well with your final grades. Your last project on fairy tales was excellent.”

“Cool, Mr. Jones. Thanks.” Killian knew Henry was trying to sound like he didn’t care, but the repressed excitement in his voice was obvious. Killian smiled.

Suddenly there was a bit of a scuffle at the other end of the phone, and a female voice replaced that of his former student.

“Hi,” Emma said a little shyly. Killian’s stomach flipped at just that small taste of her voice.

“Hi,” he replied. Even he could hear the way his voice deepened in response to her. Was that embarrassing? He could no longer tell.

“Are you calling about the…er…thing we discussed?” He could hear her moving as she spoke, probably so Henry wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop.

“The date? Yeah.”

“OK, I’m in my room.”

“Alright,” he told her, as his mind immediately wandered to a variety of other scenarios in which she might also be in her room. With him.

“So…err…do you still want to do this thing or…?” she asked him after he had been silent for what he realised must have been some time. He cursed his imagination.

“Yes, absolutely. Totally still want to do this,” he told her. She let out a breath of relief.

“Good. For a minute there I thought you’d changed your mind.”

He scoffed. “Not likely. So, you still want to do this?”

“Yeah, I…I’ve actually been looking forward to it.”

Killian’s heart stuttered. “Yeah, me too,” he told her softly.

They were silent again for a few moments, this time with anticipation, rather than awkwardness. Or at least that was the case on his end.

“So…”

“Well…”

They began at the same time. They both stopped and then laughed.

“How about dinner?” Killian asked.

“Sure. How about next Friday?” she replied.

“Sounds good. Does 7 work for you?”

“Yes, perfect.”

“Should I pick you up, or meet you there?”

“Meet me there,” she said after a small hesitation.

“Alright,” he said.

“Alright.”

“See you there?”

“Yeah, bye.”

He said his goodbye and hung up. Then he immediately called back.

“Hello?” She answered.

“I just realised we didn’t decide on a restaurant.”

Emma burst out laughing. “I didn’t even realise.”

He grinned. “Me neither. It might help.”

“Do you know The Brasserie?” she asked him.

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been,” he answered

“I’ve wanted to try it for ages, but haven’t had an opportunity.”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you there at 7.”

“Sounds great. Have we shared all the information we need this time?” she asked teasingly.

“I’m pretty sure. If not, it’ll give me an excuse to call you again.”

They said their goodbyes for the second time and hung up. Killian paused for a moment to let it all sink in. He was going on a date with Emma Swan. Emma Swan had agreed to go on a date with him. He rocked onto the balls of his feet and bounced slightly with all the pent up excitement running through his veins.

All he had to do was not mess this up and he might actually get a shot at a future he had previously only dreamed of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: OK, so I’m not as happy with this one as I was with the last 2. But this scene needed to happen before I could go on to the date chapter.
> 
> Thank you to all the wonderful people that have said such nice things about this fanfic so far. You guys are all amazing! It means a lot.


	4. The Date

Killian was at The Brasserie, nervously fiddling with his cutlery, when he happened to look up. An extremely attractive woman in an extraordinarily short dress was walking towards him. An extremely attractive woman that he realised was Emma Swan.

Killian leapt up from his seat, knocking over his chair in the process and nearly stabbing himself in the thigh with the knife he had been holding. Then, his brain must have gone into a mini-coma, because the next thing he knew Emma was standing in front of him with a really odd look on her face.

“Sorry. I…You look great. Really…great,” he told her.

She grinned. “I haven’t been on a real date in ten years. Nice to know I’ve still got it.”

“You have definitely still got…it. Whatever that is.”

She laughed and went to sit in her seat. Killian was halfway into the sitting position before he remembered his chair clattering over and froze. He slowly raised himself again, turned and righted his chair, and then sat. Crisis averted.

“It’s nice to see an honest reaction. I remember dating being about never letting the other person know how you felt or what you were thinking. I have no patience for that these days, if I ever did then.”

“Yeah, I was never one for games. The social kind, not the fun kind. I like the fun kind.”

“You like board games and that kind of thing?”

He raised a brow and gave her a silly smile. “I’m a teacher. If I didn’t like children’s games I’d probably hate my job.”

She chuckled. “I could see that.”

They drifted into silence as they each looked over their menus. The waiter came and they placed their orders.

“Where’s Henry tonight?” Killian asked.

“He’s at Regina’s house, his other mum,” she told him as she glanced around at the décor.

“His other…oh, OK. I didn’t realise…” Killian began, thoroughly confused.

Emma took one look at his face and burst out laughing. “I’m so sorry. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to anyone that didn’t know our family situation I’d forgotten how unusual it is. I got into a bit of trouble when I was younger because of Henry’s father. Regina took him in for a while until I could extricate myself. We’ve stayed a kind of family ever since.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Henry must enjoy having so many people that dote on him.”

She gave him a wry look. “Believe me, he milks it for all it’s worth.”

“He’s a smart kid,” Killian replied.

The entrée came and went, and Killian regaled her with stories of the school principal, Mr. Gold. She’d only ever met him once, so Killian was sure to tell her about how one day Gold would be the most terrifying individual he’d ever encountered, and the next day he would be like the bizarre love-child of Willy Wonka and a leprechaun. By the time he was done, Emma was in stitches and Killian’s heart was firmly hers. He hadn’t expected it quite so quickly, but he also wasn’t surprised. He’d never connected so suddenly with anyone he’d ever met before.

Over the main course, Emma told him about her life with Henry, and related an amusing incident from his earlier years when they had first visited Disneyland. After their plates were taken away and dessert menus were handed to them, he asked about her job as a bail bondsperson and how she had come into such a profession.

“It all leads back to Henry’s disaster of a father,” Emma told him. Killian was about to ask about the man that had clearly caused her so much pain when he glanced up and saw the guarded look in her eye. Another time, then.

They ordered their desserts – him, a chocolate-something that he hadn’t really paid attention to, and her, a sundae – and Killian realised the evening was coming to an end. The intense amount of disappointment he had at that thought almost worried him. He sure did have it bad for this woman.

They chatted some more about his hobbies until desserts came. He mentioned his love of sailing, which Emma seemed quite impressed by. But then they somehow got onto the topic of his rather fanboy-ish interest in pirates, which he was usually pretty good at keeping hidden.

“That’s so cool,” Emma said, to Killian’s great shock.

“I don’t know if I would say cool…” he muttered, feeling flushed.

“Who’s your favourite?”

Killian could feel himself light up at the question and inwardly groaned at himself. He knew from experience that he couldn’t stop this if he tried. “Bartholomew Roberts. He was a pirate in the early 18th century, but not the usual kind. He preferred tea to rum; he didn’t allow any gambling or women on his ships; there was no plank-walking. He chatted with his prisoners in his cabin, instead. He had all these egalitarian laws on his ships that he came up with democratically with his men. But he still managed to capture a heap of prizes and treasure.”

Only then was Killian able to stop the flow of words from his mouth and wrest the conversation from the topic. Emma didn’t need to know how deep the obsession ran. Not just yet, anyway.

Dessert arrived, and it was then that Killian became increasingly distracted. Emma apparently had a way of eating sundaes that seemed designed to seduce him. The way she wrapped her tongue around the spoon and slowly drew the object out of her mouth went straight to his groin.

In some vague corner of his mind he knew he was staring. And his chocolate-something was probably melting over the side of his plate. But, holy hell, that was some tongue.

“Killian?” he heard as if from the end of a dark tunnel. He blinked and Emma came into focus. She was looking at him strangely again, and Killian realised she must have said his name a few times trying to get his attention. He blushed for the first time in a while. And he’d been doing so well!

“Sorry, I was…thinking about something else.” He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly in his seat, trying to find a less uncomfortable position. He failed. What if she had realised what he was thinking about? Oh, God, she’d probably assume he was a pervert. “What were you saying?” he asked in a strangled voice.

“I was wondering if we should get the bill,” she told him, still eyeing him oddly.

“Yes, we can definitely do that,” he said, and immediately signalled the waiter. She probably really wanted to get out of his company right now. Maybe when he got home he would build a fort to hide from the embarrassment. Immediately on the heels of that thought came the knowledge that such regressive behaviour would no doubt increase his mortification at his actions rather than soothe him.

When the waiter brought the bill, Killian tried desperately to pay to make up for his weirdness, but Emma refused and they ended up splitting the check halfway.

They made their way out of the restaurant, with Emma collecting her coat as they went.

Killian was waiting any minute for the brush off. Maybe he should just walk off and spare her the trouble. No, he was a grown man. He could take it.

“Should we go for a walk?” Emma asked a little hesitantly. Not what he expected, but maybe she just wanted to let him down easy.

“Sure. The fountain a block away from here looks amazing at this time of night.” She looked up at him, her eyes soft and smiling, and Killian wondered if maybe he hadn’t blown it quite yet.

They went strolling off in the direction of the fountain and Emma seemed content in the silence. Huh. She really must be a very forgiving woman. Or maybe she just liked guys who regularly made arses of themselves.

Killian glanced down at her hand and saw that it was achingly close to his own. He nearly reached out to take it, but stopped himself. He really had no idea what she was thinking, could hardly get a read on her at all, so thought it best not to risk it.

The fountain came into view and Emma gasped. It really did look spectacular with all the coloured lights, but Killian hardly spared it a glance. He only had eyes for the woman standing next to him.

“Beautiful,” she whispered. He hummed in agreement, still not looking at the water. She took a tiny camera out of the pocket of her coat and snapped a photo.

She looked up at him with an excited glow and Killian grinned at the adorable picture she made.

“I want to show you something,” he told her, then dragged her to a spot around the corner. She looked at him in askance, but just as they stood in a certain spot, the jets of the fountain began to burst up from the water in patterned colours of light.

“Wow,” Emma whispered, not taking her eyes off the jets of colour until they had finished their routine.

It was only then that Killian realised he had taken her hand all those minutes ago. And he still hadn’t let go.

He dropped it like burning coal. Emma looked up at him in surprise.

“Sorry, I hadn’t…,” it was only then that he saw the hurt creeping in to her expression. He stopped himself from talking, and then slowly and deliberately took her hand again so their fingers entwined.

She moved closer so that their hands would hang more comfortably. Or so he told himself. It was only once her gaze flickered down to his lips that he got the hint. A kiss. Yeah, OK. That wasn’t nerve-wracking at all. First kiss with the woman of your dreams. Alright. He could do this. And well. It had to be good. For her. No way it would be bad for him.

Killian viciously clamped down on his thoughts and focused on Emma. He moved closer and bent down. She didn’t move away. In fact, she leaned further into him, and her gaze flickered to his mouth once again.

Good, OK. This was going to happen. Holy shit.

The minute their lips met it, Killian felt like he was having a spiritual revelation. It was as if all those coloured jets of water were exploding through his brain, celebrating this momentous event. Only once he wrapped his fingers in Emma’s hair and pulled her closer into his body did he realise that it was the actual fountain making the lights, not his mind. Well, that ruled out a seizure, at least.

He relaxed into the kiss, deepening it with his tongue and lips and teeth. He nibbled at her lips, and tasted the ice cream on her tongue. He groaned, and his hand clutched at the back of her coat, trying to pull her even closer.

Emma’s hands were running through his hair, and she was giving back as good as she got with that sinful tongue of hers. She made a sound at the back of her throat that was incredibly erotic. Killian knew he would have to stop this before he attempted to take her right there next to the fountain.

He eased off, slowing the kiss and giving her a few light touches of his lips before he stepped back. He couldn’t quite bring himself to untangle his hands from her hair or coat, though. Not just yet.

“Wow,” said Emma, her eyes still closed. She spoke with even more fervour than she’d shown the fountain. Killian couldn’t help feeling a little smug pride at that.

“Yeah,” he replied eloquently.

“Walk me home?” she asked, opening her eyes.

“Yeah,” Killian replied again, taking her hand and letting her set the pace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I have no idea what that fountain is. I made it up for convenience. The Brasserie is one of my favourite restaurants in the city I live in, but obviously it is not the same place in the story. Just an homage.
> 
> Bartholomew Roberts was real. He was also kind of a BAMF. He’s the kind of pirate captain I imagine Killian being if he hadn’t been consumed by revenge. Also, Dread Pirate Roberts from The Princess Bride was based on him, so that’s appropriate for obvious reasons.
> 
> There should only be one more part of this. Which will be smutty.


	5. The Tingle

Emma closed the door on the retreating figure of Killian Jones and let out a breath. She didn’t quite know what to think. Like, that had definitely been the best date of her life. No question. The fact that she had enjoyed herself was like a revelation all on its own, after her previous disastrous forays into the dating world.

But, then, Killian had walked her home, kissed her briefly at the door, and simply walked away. What was that even _about_? He hadn’t even waited to see if she would invite him in. Not that she necessarily would have. But she would have liked the choice. Unless he hadn’t wanted it. It was entirely possible that he wasn’t quite ready to jump in all the way, and she respected that. However, he had barely stopped to say goodbye before hurrying off.

So, had that kiss not been as amazing for him as it was for her? Maybe it was just another of his quirks. He clearly had a few of those, all of which she found adorable, sexy, or somewhere in between. That was probably a good sign. She hoped.

Emma went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine before she sat in front of the flickering lights of the TV and brooded. She knew she was probably getting worked up over nothing. It just hadn’t been what she had expected. Particularly after that moment they’d had by the fountain.

She considered their interactions from the beginning. Well, not the beginning, but from the moment it had all changed.

When Killian had bumped into her in the corridor a few weeks ago, Emma had thought nothing of it. Until he did that head-tilted-down-but-looking-up-at-her-with-a-smouldering-gaze look. And she had _tingled_. Emma Swan, perpetually single by design rather than circumstance, had actually _tingled_ over a real-life guy. That alone had made her sit up and take notice. It had been so long since she had even noticed such things that she had almost pursued the connection then and there. When that whistle had blown to distract her, she had been only partially relieved.

The nerves she’d had while getting ready for the parent-teacher conference had been out of control. Just deciding what to wear – the perfect blend of casual and eye-catching – had been incredibly stressful. It had all been worth it, though. She’d seen the way his gaze had heated slightly as he first saw her and she had _tingled_ again. Yet, when he’d asked her out she had been immediately shocked into silence. Men had stopped asking her out a long time ago. She didn’t know why, just figured it was so vibe she was putting out, and she honestly hadn’t cared. But the truly shocking thing is that she had wanted to go. And that had so astonished her that she hadn’t been able to answer him for a full 2 minutes.

And he’d kept his word about calling her as soon as Henry was no longer in his class. That had tipped the feeling from a _tingle_ into actual excitement about the date.

It was also the moment she realised her previous dates had been complete dirtbags, when a man calling when he said he would was the sexiest thing she could imagine.

And then had come the date. The wonderful date, where the two of them had talked and connected and she’d had such an incredible time. The fact that he loved pirates was endearing, he had this unconscious scratch behind the ear when he was nervous that was really cute, and he told hilarious stories until she was in stitches. Towards the end of the evening she had felt him close off slightly and had worried. But then that magical kiss by the fountain had allayed all her fears. The _tingle_ had exploded into an intense heat, and she’d been glad for the walk home in the cool night air to restore some sanity.

He’d seemed distracted during the stroll, but, then, so was she. And then he’d bloody well left her at the door with barely a word. Ugh, men. She remembered why she had been avoiding them for so long. She didn’t need the added stress.

Emma’s phone sounded, breaking her out of her reverie. She looked at the text.

‘I had a great time tonight. May I see you again soon?’

_Tingle._ Ah, yes. That was why she had agreed to this whole thing.

‘Yes, please,’ she replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Yes, so this is not the chapter I previously promised. So sorry. I swear on my life the smut is coming up next. But I had an anonymous message on Tumblr telling me they were dying to know what Emma was thinking, so I thought it was the perfect time to write this.


	6. The Smut

Killian’s hands were sweating. Now, normally this wouldn’t be too much of a problem, except right at this moment he was holding Emma Swan’s hand. The idea that she could feel his sweaty palms made him even more nervous than he already was, which made his hands sweat more, which made him more nervous. A vicious, vicious cycle.

Why was he nervous? Well, they were a block away from Emma’s apartment, and he still hadn’t decided whether he was going to ask to go inside when they got there. They’d had four dates now, so it wasn’t an unreasonable thought. But was she ready? Was _he_ ready? Was now the right time? Was Henry home? Was he going to mess this up and ruin the best thing he had in his life? The questions were endless.

Hence, the anxiety.

Emma’s door came into view. Alright, time to make a decision.

“Emma…,” he began.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked. His gaze shot to her face and he found himself studying her eyes. She was looking at him politely, waiting for his answer.

Well, yes, obviously he would. Now that he knew how she felt about it, some of the anxiety regarding to situation abated.

Emma raised an eyebrow in question and Killian realised he hadn’t actually answered her aloud.

“Yes,” he told her simply. A smile bloomed across her face, and Killian could have sworn her eyes darken in anticipation.

She tugged on his hand and led him to her door. As soon as it was open she hauled him through the portal and was pressing her lips against his.

His body responded before his brain had any time to process. His lips moved against hers as his left hand hauled her into his body. With his right hand he trailed a path from her hip, over her waist and shoulder, up the bare skin of her neck to settle, tangled in her hair.

Emma kicked off her heels and was suddenly a few inches shorter, so he had to tilt his head down more to access her mouth.

One of Emma’s hands had immediately begun clutching at his hair and the other was working to undo the buttons on his shirt. Her actions were stalled by the fact that they were standing too close, and he had no intention of backing up just yet. Instead, he quickly pulled her coat off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He pressed her backwards, his mouth still fused to hers, until her back was against the wall.

He pressed his body into hers, slowly and deliberately so that she could feel him touching every part of her. One of his hands went to her breast, palming it through the thin cloth of her top.

She gasped and her head tilted back against the wall with a small thud. Killian used the opportunity to start pressing open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

Emma’s hands found their way inside his partially unbuttoned shirt and splayed across his chest. Her fingers curled as he bit her lightly on her shoulder and she let out a small noise. Killian paid attention to those signs, learned the way her body moved and responded to the things he did, so he’d know what to repeat.

Emma finally managed to unbutton his shirt all the way and rip it down his arms so it fell to the floor. In retaliation, he divested her of her top, leaving her in a lacy bra that made a large portion of his brain simply shut down.

He stared at her for a long moment, drinking in the sight. Now that he’d slowed down, his brain was functioning enough to realise that, Holy Shit, this was actually happening.

When he reached for her again he saw his hand had a slight tremble. To disguise it, he spread his hand firmly across her ribs and once again moved in close, until they were skin to skin.

Killian’s lips hovered over hers and he took a moment to breathe her in; just exist in her space and enjoy the sensation of them being here, in this exact moment. These last few weeks, his imagination hadn’t even begun to fathom what this would mean to him.

Emma looked up at him as she slid her hand lightly over his bicep. He felt himself shiver at her touch.

“Should we move to the bedroom?” she asked with her eyes wide and an edge of confusion to her voice. She must have been wondering why he’d stopped. Whether he’d changed his mind. If he could have laughed at the notion, he would have. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Yes,” he told her. Clearly words were not his strong point this evening. Still, at least he had the chance to show her how he felt through actions, instead.

He eased himself off her and let her lead the way to a door near the end of the hall.

When they reached her room and Killian saw Emma’s bed, he had to pause for a moment to let all the erotic images pass through his mind. He had enough fantasies about her stored in his mind that he could never get through them all in one night. He supposed that meant they’d simply have to make love again. Repeatedly. How tragic.

He toed off his shoes, but clearly he was taking too long, because Emma spun him slightly and shoved when he was off balance. He landed lightly back onto the bed, and she stalked towards him, her hips swaying. She crawled over him and straddled his hips. Killian watched her avidly, happy for her to take control for the moment.

Emma’s hair curtained them as their lip met again, more hungry than before. She took his hands and held them above his head, rolling her hips against his in the process.

All the blood immediately left his brain and travelled down towards the friction she had created. He decided there were too many layers between them, so he pushed his hands against hers to hint that he wanted to touch her. She broke the kiss only to smile wickedly at him.

She repeated the movement with her hips a few more times just to torture him, and he groaned at the rush of pleasure.

He saw Emma’s eyes move their entwined hands and her face changed.

“What’s this?” she asked, and he felt her traced the scar on his forearm with her fingertips.

“Sailing accident,” he gasped, still distracted by the feel of her on top of him. “Nearly lost the arm.”

“Oh,” she said, frowning.

“Does it bother you? I know it looks bad,” he asked seriously.

“Not at all,” she replied, smiling faintly. She brought the offending limb to her mouth and kissed his scar lightly.

Then, Emma finally released his hands and sat up to take off her bra. She flung it across the room, and Killian was so mesmerised by the movement of her bare breasts that he couldn’t remember what he had planned to do next.

Emma placed her hands on his chest and moved her fingers lightly through the crisp hairs. She bit her lip, and Killian’s hands involuntarily clamped down on her thighs. Ah, yes, her jeans. That’s what he’d been intending.

In a movement designed to surprise, Killian sat up quickly and rolled Emma onto her back. She let out a small exclamation and he grinned. He bent down to kiss her, unable to help himself. He had to keep reminding himself that this was real.

Killian could feel Emma’s hands running along his back and up into his hair. He gave her one last peck, and then began to kiss her neck, tasting her with the tip of his tongue. He made his way down and got waylaid by her breasts. He took one into his mouth, teasing the nipple with his tongue. The other breast deserved some attention, too, so he palmed it, and rolled the nipple between his fingers in time to his movements on its twin.

Emma was squirming, and clutching at his hair in a most gratifying way.

“Please,” she begged him, and Killian smiled against her chest. He abandoned her breast and began kissing his way down her stomach. He looked up at her through his lashes to gauge her reaction, and she was looking at him with hot eyes.

When he reached the waistband of her jeans, he unsnapped the top button and slowly drew the zip down. The sound was loud in the quite room, and mingling with their heavy breaths. Emma was still watching him, anticipating.

He tugged at her jeans, and Emma raised her hips to help him remove them. Soon enough, she was only in her panties, and Killian took a brief moment to appreciate the wanton picture she made, sprawled across the bed.

But her siren’s lure was too strong to resist any longer. Killian slid his hands down the outside of her thighs, stopping when he reached the fabric barrier. He gave her one last look, to make sure this was what she wanted. He saw no apprehension on her face, only eagerness.

He pulled and the panties were gone. She was bare to him.

Without hesitation, Killian leaned down and tasted her, running his tongue up until he reached that sensitive bundle of nerves. There, he stopped to gently work the bud until Emma was writhing beneath his mouth. He sucked, once, and then inserted a finger into her. He worked it in and out until she could easily take another.

He had to unbutton his pants and adjust himself for comfort, but he never once focused on anything other than Emma and what was pleasing her.

Her orgasm took him by surprise. She gave a short, panting cry and he felt her muscles contract around his fingers. He continued his actions, riding out her release until she relaxed.

He sat up and looked at her. She was grinning lazily at him, and Killian could feel his heart swell. He was already so in love with this woman it was almost ridiculous.

He kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips. Her hands slipped down his back and beneath the waistband of his underwear and she dug her fingers in.

His hips bucked and she wrapped her legs around him to cradle him as she pushed his clothing off. He helped her, chuckling a little when she wouldn’t release him to make it easier. She reached up and sucked on his earlobe instead, and he felt it in his groin. Eventually he managed to remove the remainder of his clothes.

They were both completely naked. And it was glorious.

Emma reached into her bedside table and he heard a crinkle. She rolled the condom onto him and stroked him a few times.

He stopped her, needing this to _not_ be embarrassingly short.

She grinned at him, and he positioned himself over her entrance. The smile faded, and Killian wondered if she felt that this was as momentous as he did.

He held her eyes as he slowly eased himself into her. He kept his movements slow and controlled, watching her closely.

Her breath hitched, and he leaned down to capture it with his mouth.

Holding himself up on one arm, he used the other to tease her breast. She arched off the bed, thrusting her chest up so he could capture the other nipple briefly with his lips.

His movements were getting less measured, and he felt himself getting too close to the edge. Her reactions to his ministrations weren’t helping. So, keeping them joined, he rolled, allowing her to be on top.

Emma took a moment to steadying herself, her hands planted firmly on his chest. She swivelled her hips experimentally, and smiled a seductress’s smile at his groan.

She began moving; rolling her hips as she slid herself up and down his length.

Killian’s fingers dug into her hips as she moved, but he let her set the pace. He thrust up from the bed, trying to match her movements, but no longer in full control of himself.

All too soon he knew he couldn’t take much more. He slid his fingers over until they found that tight bud and rubbed it in concert with her movements.

She cried out, louder than last time, and he felt her tighten around him. The pull of her contractions was enough to send him over the edge. He thrust up once, twice, and felt his release.

Emma collapsed against him, clearly spent. He wanted to put his arm around her, but couldn’t move sue to complete satiation. He allowed himself a few moments of rest before he slid out from under her and tidied up.

Emma was already asleep by the time he slipped back into bed with her, and wrapped his arm around her from behind. She sighed dreamily in her sleep and Killian drifted off into pleasant dreams of his future to the sound her soft breaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So, finally, the long-promised smut. A big thanks to feinnabot on Tumblr for her beta-ing skills for this chapter.
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading this story. I really appreciate it!


	7. The Happily Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently I just couldn't let this story go. I decided to write a definitive wrap up chapter in the hope I would stop thinking about it.

Killian awoke to the sunlight streaming in through the windows and a sleeping Emma cocooned in his arms. He took a moment to relish the feeling of contentment that settled over him. He had the woman he adored snuggled next to him in bed on a beautiful Sunday morning. Life couldn’t be better.

He kissed her bare shoulder and his hand lazily cupped her breast. Emma stirred in her sleep, pressing more firmly against him. Killian groaned and tweaked her nipple. Her breath quickened and he knew she was awake.

His hand was in the process of drifting down her stomach when Killian realised what had awoken him. There was someone outside the apartment, and they were about to come in.

“Shit,” he muttered and jumped back, falling out of the bed in the process. He landed in a heap on the floor, taking most of the sheets with him.

“What’s wrong?” Emma was still on the bed looking delectably tousled. She was sitting upright and was completely bare, and Killian took a moment to lament that he couldn’t touch her. Not right now.

She looked a little distressed and Killian tried to reassure her as he hunted about the room for his clothes.

“Someone’s coming in,” he hissed.

Her head cocked and he knew she heard it, too. A key was placed in the lock and turned. Any minute someone would be in the hall outside her room.

Emma leapt out of bed and threw on a pair of pyjamas that were conveniently on the floor. Killian had found his underwear and his shirt, but his pants, arguably the most important element of any ensemble, appeared to be missing.

As Emma slipped out of the door she put a finger to her lips to tell him to be quiet. He didn’t need the warning. It could only be Henry out there, and this was not the way he wanted the lad to find out about him and his mother. They should have had a chance to talk about it first, give him time to get used to the idea. Killian could well imagine how awkward it would be for Henry having his school and home life collide like this.

So Killian stood quietly as he heard Emma greet her son. There was another woman’s voice, too. Probably Regina, who had taken Henry for the night.

It was then that Killian saw his pants, wedged underneath the dresser. In almost all occasions he would rather get caught with his pants on, rather than down, so he decided to take the risk and go for them.

He moved slowly, sure a floorboard would creak any second and give him away. The voices were still right outside the room, and Killian wondered briefly why Emma hadn’t moved them to the kitchen.

He reached his pants with no difficulty and breathed a sigh of relief. He held them carefully as he stepped into the legs. But, as he tried to get his second foot through, he must have been temporarily distracted trying to listen to Emma’s conversation, because he tripped over the leg of the pants and came down too heavily on the wooden floor. Losing his balance, his shoulder smacked into the dresser. Between the thump of his body hitting the vanity and the rattling if the little objects on top, Killian knew the game was up.

The voices outside the room ceased and Killian had a moment of panicked silence. The door slowly began to open, and Killian realised his pants were still at his ankles. He quickly pulled them up and buttoned them, but one look at his hair in the dresser mirror was all it took for Killian to realise he couldn’t look like anything except a man that had spent the night doing all manner of sinful things with a very beautiful woman. Not with the limited time he had. So he did his best to tame his hair as the door opened to reveal Emma, with Henry peeking in behind her.

Killian slipped out of the room, conscious that he only had one sock on and no shoes.

“Hi, Henry,” he said awkwardly. Henry was clearly assessing him, and said nothing.

“You must be Regina,” Killian said to the other woman. She nodded and held out her hand, which he shook gratefully.

The four of them stood there in silence for a moment, and Killian knew that if he were Henry’s age he would probably be scuffing his feet bashfully by this point.

“So, Mr. J,” Henry said into the tense atmosphere. “Are you and my mum a _thing_ now?”

Killian glanced at Emma, who raised an unhelpful brow, and then back at the boy. “I believe so,” he replied carefully.

Henry considered this for a moment. “Cool. I always liked you. You were a good teacher.” He looked Killian dead in the eye. “Just don’t, you know, hurt her.”

Killian looked at the boy sincerely. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Henry relaxed, clearly believing in his candour. “OK. I’m going to play some video games. See you ‘round, Mr. J.”

“You could probably start calling me Killian, now, lad,” he replied with a grin. Henry just shrugged and left.

Regina gave him and Emma an amused look and followed after her adoptive son.

“Well,” said Killian once the other two were in the other room. “That went well.”

“Surprisingly so,” Emma agreed.

“You didn’t want to offer me any help there?” he teased.

Emma smiled in reply. “I suppose I was testing you,” she said, having the grace to look just a little embarrassed.

“Given my chosen profession, I am well familiar with tests. I do hope I passed.” He winked at her.

She chuckled. “You did well.”

Killian’s heart warmed. If she wanted to know how he was with Henry, it meant that she wanted him around more often.

“So, does that mean we are a _thing_?” he asked softly, with a smile.

“Haven’t we…haven’t we been since the beginning?” she questioned hesitantly.

Killian took her hand. “To me, yes. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

She nodded. “Good. Then, yes, we are definitely now a thing.”

They grinned happily at each other.

“I should probably go. Give you a chance to talk to Henry.”

“OK. I’ll see you soon.”

He found the remainder of his clothes and let himself out, flush with happiness.

 

In the weeks and months from that moment they saw each other very regularly. Killian spent a great deal of time with Emma and Henry, staying the night as often as Emma would let him. Three months into the relationship, Killian admitted what he had known all along. He loved Emma and Henry, and wanted to be a part of their lives forever. He knew he wanted them to be his family.

While Killian was well aware that he was a rather hopeless romantic, Emma was far more cautious when it came to matters of love and commitment. She would not be ready for the promise of a lifetime just yet. She was still mending the pieces of her heart, and Killian didn’t want to rush her. He just loved seeing her happy, and for now that was more than enough.

 

The next month, in the early hours of one morning, when confessions spilled most easily, Emma confided some of the most deeply held secrets of her past. Killian listened, kissed her, and held her as she cried the demons away. It helped him understand her like nothing else, and love her all the more.

 

About five months from their first date, Emma told Killian that she loved him for the first time. Killian felt like he was on a high for days afterwards. It was like Christmas had come early, having Emma willingly make that step with him.

 

One month after that, in reaction to the momentous event, Killian bought a ring. He knew Emma still wasn’t ready, but she was slowly getting closer. He’d practically moved in with her and Henry, and they were talking about making the move official. Emma was still nervous about such a big step, but Henry seemed pleased at having ‘insider’ help on his homework, convinced it gave him and edge over his classmates. And Killian had cool stories about pirates to entertain him, and a sailboat to take them out on weekends.

Still, Killian set the ring aside and waited until he was sure that it was what Emma wanted.

 

One year after they had started dating, Emma began dropping hints about a future together. Not just tomorrow, or the next week, but months and years down the road. Killian noticed every clue, and finally decided she was ready.

He booked a table at the restaurant where they had had their first date, as a one year anniversary date. And when they walked down to the fountain after the meal, he dropped down on one knee.

“Emma, you and Henry are the best things that have ever happened to me. I know that you haven’t had it easy in life, but I want a chance to make all that just a distant memory. I want to spend every day making you happy, for the rest of our lives. I plan to make our life together so full of joy that when we are old and grey it is the only thing you can remember. I want to be with you, for every step on the journey of the rest of our lives. So, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

And Emma smiled a watery smile and kissed him thoroughly, eventually managing to answer ‘yes’ with actual words.

 

Two years exactly after that awkward encounter in the school corridor, Emma and Killian were married on Killian’s favourite yacht. Henry was ring bearer. It was the start of a very long and happy life for all of them.


End file.
